What is Different?
by grab bag
Summary: A student at Bayville High may not have the same differences as the mutants, but still fights for mutant equality. Mutants and humans have more in common than we all thought.
1. New Arrival

This is a different take on the typical "new mutant" scenario, although you won't find out why or how for a few chapters. Thanks for giving it a try, please leave a review with helpful critiques, I'll probably need them, heh heh. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, and all related characters and concepts are not mine. Original characters/situations are.

* * *

Charles Xavier was working at his desk when he received the message that a young woman was here to see him. She had said it was important, about her "situation." Professor Xavier allowed her in, for the doors to Xavier Institute were indeed open to all, and he imagined she was in need of someone to talk to if she arrived at such short notice and so late at night.

Storm led in a young teenage girl, carrying a backpack and looking as though she hadn't slept in a proper bed for weeks. A runaway, obviously. This wasn't an unusual sight in the Institute, although there was something different about this girl that Xavier couldn't place. Storm moved to the side as the girl took a seat in front of Xavier's desk.

"Good day, young lady. I am Professor Charles Xavier. What brings you to the Xavier Institute?"

The girl began timidly, "I was wondering if it were at all possible for... you see, I was rejected at home and...well, if there is any room here..." She seemed to be groping for the best way to explain her disheveled state, without losing face and remaining respectful as well.

Professor Xavier knew exactly what this girl was trying to say.

"You would like to know if you may stay at the Institute?" he suggested.

The girl looked immensely relieved, and even smiled a little. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant. I mean," she added, hurriedly, "as long as there's room of course."

Xavier smiled and said, "My dear, if you so desire, you may take up permanent residence and attend the Bayville High School."

This unusual girl smiled wider now. "Thank you, so very much. I had nowhere to go and I needed somewhere I could be... well, accepted. Understood. I knew I could find help here."

Xavier pressed the tips of his fingers together, and addressed the girl. "You are not the first to come to the Xavier Institute looking for acceptance. You are also not the first runaway here. I imagine you are not fully aware of your powers or capabilities yet, but we can help you develop them here, and help you live as normal of a life as you can, Ms...?"

"Jones. Clara Jones."

Xavier felt something shift in Clara's mind. He delved a little deeper, curious to find out just what was so different about her. He sensed the usual emotions- fear, anger, anxiety, and a thirst for equality. These last two were definitely the strongest he had ever seen. She seemed afraid that the people here- specifically, at the Institute- would discover some secret she held. Also, Clara's desire for the equality of mutants and humans seemed slightly different than the typical mutant runaway. It seemed more selfless, somehow. And it was somehow related to what she didn't want him to know.

Xavier accidentally found it. Clara must have felt him looking through her mind somehow, because she gasped slightly and looked up from where she was examining the carpet to look fearfully at Xavier. Her eyes were wide and pleading.

'_Please, please don't judge me.'_ She pounded silently in her head, knowing Xavier could hear her thoughts. She glanced nervously at Storm in the corner, who smiled lightly, completely unaware.

Xavier grinned warmly, and continued as if nothing had happened. "You may indeed stay, Ms. Jones, and attend Bayville High School with the other students. Don't worry about them at all; you shall attend private training with me. Storm, please show Ms. Jones to her room- the one adjacent to Rogue's is unoccupied, I believe."

As Storm ushered Clara out the door, Clara heard Xavier's voice resound clearly in her head, saying calmly, "I commend your bravery. You need not tell the other mutants anything more than what you wish them to know. And it is, in the end, your decision to remain here as long as you wish. We shall speak again."  
  
Clara could breathe more easily in her room that night. Classes began the next day, she was in a bed at last, and if everyone was as nice and understanding as the Professor, she might finally be accepted somewhere. It was a good feeling to have, not being judged by what you are, but by who you are. For the first time in months, Clara slept peacefully.


	2. First Day

Clara kicked her locker, frustrated. Just what she needed- to be late on her first day.

The stuck door refused to budge, and Clara slammed her fist against it. Just at that moment, a gloved hand pounded next to hers, right above the lock. Clara heard a click, and the door eased open.

Looking up, Clara saw a girl with white streaks in her hair smiling at her surprised expression.

"I figured you could use some help," the girl explained with a light Southern drawl. "My friend had this locker a few weeks ago, before he got it changed. See, you have to hit it in two places. Here to shift the door's position," she pointed to a dent where Clara's hand had been, "and here, to drop the lock into place." She indicated where her hand had been.

"Thanks," Clara said quietly.

The girl extended her hand in greeting, and said, "Friends call me Rogue. And you?" Clara firmly shook the gloved hand, and said, "Clara."

Rogue continued talking as Clara deposited those books she didn't need for morning classes.

"So, you have the room next to mine, huh? I saw you coming in last night."

Clara straightened up and asked, "How'd you know? I thought every one was asleep by then."

Rogue grinned. "Let's just say I have a few friends who need to be stopped by more than doors and walls."

Clara closed the locker door (which was more easily done than opening it), and remarked, "That sounds interesting. Can they, like, walk through walls or see through wood or something?"

"You could say that. So, uh..." Rogue hesitated, lowering her voice to a murmur "you are different too, right? I mean, I would assume, considering the state you were in last night."

"Different...yeah, you could say that," Clara replied. Her eyes glanced around the hallway, trying to figure out which way would lead her to her first class quickest.

"Well, then we will say that," Rogue confirmed.

The first bell rang, and Clara jumped. She still had two and a half minutes to get to class, but she had no clue where it was. Seeing Clara's anxiety, Rogue offered her help.

"You look more nervous than a jackrabbit. Where you headed?"

Clara checked her schedule and said, "Sociology."

Rogue nodded, and scanned the crowd of students. Picking out who she was looking for, she hailed over a boy passing by, and introduced Clara.

"Hey Kurt," she said as the boy approached, "this here is my friend Clara, she's got Sociology with you now. Be a doll and show her the way?"

"Sure," he said, with an accent Clara couldn't place. He glanced from Rogue to Clara and back, then said, hesitantly, "Is she...er...you know...?"

Rogue nodded, and Kurt grinned. Rogue was a fairly good judge of character, and if she would refer to her as a friend, well, she must be okay.

"Just one question, Clara, before you go," Rogue asked, "what, uh, what exactly is your power?"

"Excuse me?" Clara blinked.

"You know, your...your mutant power," Kurt clarified. The two gazed intently at her, and she floundered.

"I...I don't really like to talk about it. And, um, I'd like to get to class at least on time, what with it being my first day and all, so, uh, can we...?"

"Sure, sure. When you're ready," Kurt said. Both turned to go, but Kurt lingered with Rogue for a moment. They exchanged a grin, and Rogue whispered, "Denial."

"Yeah, but she's cool. See you around," he said, then turned to help Clara find her first class.

Rogue smiled. She knew what it was like to be a runaway, what it was like to need friends. Maybe she could help.


	3. Meetings

Ok, I just realized that some of my information is a bit…well, wrong. Kurt doesn't take Sociology, for example, and Rogue is a tad too friendly. Sorry. I tried to fix some of the big stuff, but w/e. Use your imagination and take it as it is. Thanks, and enjoy.

* * *

Word travels fast in the mutant community at Bayville High, it appeared. Most of her new acquaintances had seen or heard of her arrival the night before, and it seemed her residence in the Institute proved she was one to trust.

Clara had formally met no less than 7 new people today, including Rogue and Kurt, many of whom were more than happy to show her to a class or introduce her to their circle. Clara ran into relatively few problems that day, other than the common query about her mutant ability. These she avoided by either changing the subject or hurrying to her next class. She was off to a good start, and not about to risk it. She'd had no taunts or jeers; the mutants seemed eager enough to help her settle in with few questions, and the "normal" teens were mildly accepting. She also assumed this might be because they knew little of the genetic makeup of part of the student body, but as they say, ignorance is bliss and all that.

The last bell rang, and Clara was pushed through the surge of students streaming down the hallways. She smashed both hands into her locker door, and it swung open neatly. Clara managed a slight smile. She was getting the hang of things. Collecting her things and shutting the locker door, she turned to see Rogue at her side again, accompanied by Kurt and a boy she had met who called himself Spyke.

"So," Rogue began, "how was your first day?"

"Alright. Much easier than I expected, anyway."

"How do you mean?"" Rogue asked.

Clara replied, "Well, there were so many people willing to help. You two," she nodded at Rogue and Kurt, "as well as some other kids."

"Who?" Kurt asked, although he could probably guess a couple off the top of his head. It never hurts to be polite.

"Spyke," she grinned at the boy clutching his skateboard, "a girl called Kitty. Amara, Bobby, Ray. Real nice group."

"Yeah, well, we like to help out those in a tight spot, starting out fresh. We all know we've been there," Spyke said.

"I got that impression," Clara said, quieter.

"So, are you heading back to the Institute now?" Rogue asked. "We're heading that way, you can walk with us if you like."

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Clara said, and the four turned to head outside. As soon as the double doors opened onto the sunshine, Spyke's board hit the pavement. He ollied into the air, did a nosegrind across the rail of the steps, and zoomed down the sidewalk.

"Where's he off to in such a hurry?" Clara asked.

Rogue laughed, and shook her head. "Nowhere," she replied, "he's just showing off. He'll be back."

Sure enough, Spyke was waiting for them at the beginning of the student parking lot, talking to a pretty redhead next to a young man in the driver's seat of a red roadster. Clara didn't recognize the boy, which was surprising- there would be no mistaking those red sunglasses if she'd seen him in school.

When they reached the car, Spyke introduced Clara.

"Clara, this is Jean and Scott," he motioned to the redhead, then to the boy.

Clara shook Jean's and then Scott's hand, commenting "Nice car," to the latter.

"Thanks. So, you managed to get through your first day in one piece. You like your classes and all that?" Scott asked, being cordial.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry I missed the journalism unit in English, but at least I made it into Sociology. I would have been really ticked off if it was full."

Jean looked up at this. "Sociology, huh? Any fields you're interested in, in particular?"

"Civil Rights," Kurt piped up, grinning. "She was talking about it all through lunch."

Scott arched an eyebrow.

"Civil Rights and journalism? Someone like you could do some major good for us mutants if they made it in the so-called 'real world.'"

"No kidding," Rogue said. "Maybe she should try it here. The school newspaper could use a good healthy dose of equality."

"Why hasn't anyone else written anything?" Clara asked. "It doesn't have to be me. I just got here."

"Some of us are a bit well known for being...different," Scott grimaced.

"I see," Clara said, solemnly. "So I'm a better writer because no one knows who I am or...what I do?"

"Yeah," Scott retorted sharply. Jean shot him a look, and he mumbled something that sounded like "Sorry."

"No, don't apologize," Clara said. "It's not his fault. It does make some sense...in a twisted kind of way. Maybe I will write something. Something small though," she added. "Something recreational. Hey Spyke, you mind if I take some action shots of you skating?" she finished, with a slight laugh.

"Sure, why not?" he chuckled. "That's about as recreational as you can get."

They joked for a few more minutes about how interesting could an article about Spyke could really be, anyway, when Kurt glanced at his watch, and teasingly announced that they were _going_ to be late, if you _don't_ mind, so stop distracting them with small talk, _thank_ you very much.

Rogue leaned over, playfully grabbing his wrist.

"What are you talking about? You don't even know what's going on half the time, look- your watch is ten minutes fast-"

She jabbed at the face of the watch just as Kurt tried to pull his hand away...

...when Rogue's gloved hand slipped, hitting a button.

Kurt turned blue.

Blue, Clara noticed, and furry. All over.

With a tail, three fingers on each hand, and pointier teeth.

Everyone gasped, so she knew she wasn't just seeing things.

Luckily for him, Kurt's hand was on the watch in an instant, and in a shimmer, he transformed back to his tail-less, un-blue self, avoiding a commotion in the parking lot.

Everyone knew Clara had seen Kurt in his natural appearance, she had to. It was impossible to miss. But how would she...?

People usually freaked out even _with_ prior notice.

But Clara just grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"That," she beamed, "was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Was that a _tail_?"

Kurt seemed stunned at her reaction, but then the corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile, and he said simply, "Yeah."

She extended her hand, which Kurt shook, now fully smiling.

The rest of the mutants let out a sigh of relief. Clara was fine with even the weirder physical aspects of mutants. It had been kind of like an initiation. She was cool.

Welcome to the club, Clara.


	4. Homework

The door shut with a dry click behind her as Clara stepped into Professor Xavier's office. The Professor looked up from his desk as she entered, and set his pen aside.

"Ah, Miss Jones. I'm glad to see Storm delivered her message to you in time. You had no trouble finding my office?"

"No, sir."

"Very good. How was your first day at Bayville High?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together lightly.

"It was nice, thank you. I met some of the students from here, and they were all very kind to me." Despite this brief response, Clara's calm disposition was all Xavier needed to confirm it.

"That's good to hear. Now, to business. I would imagine you have some questions about your situation, but before you ask, let me explain some things. First, I have contacted your parents and informed them that you are safe. No more need be said about the subject, if you wish," he added, at Clara's pained face.

"Also," Xavier continued, "there are a number of papers currently in your room, for you to read at your disposal, concerning some of the regulations here at the Institute. While there are but a few, they are of course important, mostly about safety, training room hours, and the like."

"Professor Xavier, I have a question about that, actually," Clara interrupted politely. "About that special training you mentioned? What am I to do exactly, considering...well, considering?"

Xavier smiled gently at this. "That is a good question. Now, I believe you are currently enrolled in sociology and journalism classes, correct? Considering your situation, I believe further study in these areas, as well as other related fields, would be of benefit to you as part of your training. You will of course be required to participate in some of the physical training, but this could only be to your benefit, especially regarding the other students, wouldn't you agree?"

"Certainly, sir. I would like that very much."

"Well then," Xavier said, "let us begin with an easy assignment for the first day, shall we? Over in that corner is a computer. I'd like you to do an online search for mutants in the news and print out the first 20 articles you pull up. For homework, read them, sort them by bias, and write two or three paragraphs summing up what you have found. That's all, I think, I'm sure you have other work to do."

"Alright, Professor." Clara sat at the computer, and in a short time had printed the required articles. Before she left, she turned back to Xavier.

"Professor? I'd like to thank you again for...for giving me a chance."

He looked up and smiled.

"Why, Miss Jones, Xavier Institute always gives chances. Sometimes even second chances. There is no reason you should be any different."

Clara smiled, open the door, and left. So far, the Institute had been nothing but kind to her, a wonderful change from the xenophobia and bigotry she left behind.

But underneath it all, she wondered how long she could keep this up before someone caught on.


	5. Confession

Clara could not believe her luck. After three weeks at the Institute, she had settled in comfortably. Up to date with her schoolwork, involved in the school newspaper, and gradually spending more time with her new friends, she thought she was finally safe. No one had come anywhere close to figuring anything about her that could incriminate, and she was fine with that.

Too bad her friends weren't.

It started innocently enough. They were curious, and after a while, the suspense began to drag at their heels.

Why was she so secretive? What did she have to hide? What kind of training was she receiving?

What was her power?

It certainly couldn't be much worse than what they'd seen before. Most of them had some kind of tumultuous history, and they'd all seen enough prejudice that none even thought of ostracizing her based on her powers. They figured she was still "in denial," but that didn't stop them from wondering.

It hadn't been malicious at all. Clara and Kurt had been studying for an upcoming assignment in sociology in his room one night. Rogue came in to ask Kurt a math question, Jean and Spyke brought Clara some new photos for her article, Kitty needed a free outlet for her hairdryer, and Scott entered looking for Jean. Studying was abandoned pretty quickly, and the group just joked around, enjoying each other's company.

"So Clara," Scott asked during a pause in the laughter, "how's the paper coming?"

"The absolute dullness of my subject is killing me," Clara jibed, grinning at Spyke playfully. "I'm surprised I haven't dropped dead yet from how absolutely boring he is."

Spyke tossed a pillow at her, and retorted, "Yeah, but a subject is only as good as the writer that portrays him. You'll be hearing from my lawyers for that libel." He ducked, laughing, as the pillow whizzed back, just missing his head.

"Hey," Kitty piped in, "could you just imagine his personal ad? 'Seeking girlfriend- boring boy with interest in legal procedures and no other positive aspects, according to friends.'"

"Is also a part-time porcupine," Scott added.

"Real nice coming from you, bright eye," Rogue joked. "Not that I'm much better: 'Girl seeks boy not requiring goodnight kisses. Handshakes are out too.'"

They all laughed, and Kitty turned to Clara.

"What about you? What would your mutant personal ad say?"

Clara's mouth clamped shut.

"Yeah," Jean asked, "what is your power? I don't think I've ever seen you use it."

Rogue said, "You haven't even spoken about it. Certainly you're comfortable enough with us now?" Her inquisitive gaze and voice asked more questions than her words spoke.

Clara's eyes darted from one to the other. More voices assailed her.

"Yeah, please tell us!

"Come on, you can trust us."

"That's right. We're all mutants."

"Nothing to be ashamed of."

Voices. From her right.

"What is it?"

The left.

"Tell us!"

"We should know!"

"Come on, Clara!"

Bewildered. Shut your eyes, block them out.

You don't know, you can't know. No. Don't. Can't.

"You can be comfortable with us!"

"What's your power?" "Tell us, come on!"

What's

Your

Power?

Too much. Too many voices.

She cracked.

"I DON'T HAVE ONE!!!"

Silence.

"What?" someone asked.

She was livid, tears streaming down her strained face.

"I don't have a power! I'm not a mutant!"

Another voice. "You're kidding." The voice sought confirmation. "She's kidding, right?"

Nothing.

Clara looked through a haze of tears from one blurry face to the next.

Twelve eyes. Staring. Strong.

She turned and ran from the room.


End file.
